


i-v

by orphan_account



Category: Critical Hit (Podcast)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 09:08:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1220608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	1. Chapter 1

_i._

So there's this fellow, he's got the blacksmith's apron and the smoked goggles and the very first thing you ever see him do is attack a comrade of yours with some sort of magic.

It's certainly not the _best_ first impression he could have made.

But then he mentions that he's only being doing this for a week, and when you check on him after, Torq seems to be fine. It looks you're going to be traveling with him for a bit anyways so there's no sense holding a grudge.

 

(You chuckle a bit when he says his name is Smith. You wonder if it's the family trade or if he just calls himself that)

 

_ii._

Orem is the first one to bring up Smith's strangeness. It's Smith _aversion_ to talking about it that gets you interested. He insists that he's not a werewolf, that the whole business with the moon is causing all of this. You try to figure out what's up, only to incur Torq's wrath. You're suspicious, to be honest, but he really doesn't seem like he's _trying_ to cause harm.

You let it go,for now.

 

_iii._

Smith wakes you up in the middle of the night, saying something about his bones and obviously in a lot of pain. You end up preforming surgery and pulling a beautifly carved dagger out of his neck. He seems far more concerned and confused about it than anyone else. You're just curious, it's not every day someone just _grows_ a weapon.

As everyone returns to sleep, he shakily thanks you and walks outside. You check on him after a moment, but he's just standing, alternately looking at the dagger and biting one of his fingers nervously. You feel bad for him, but you've done all that you can do.

 

_iv._

 

There's a halting knock on your door; you start to tidy your desk a bit but before you can get up you hear Smith call for you from the other side. He sounds more troubled than normal- as soon as you let him in he holds up his hands.

They look swollen, he insists that _yes they are very very painful, would you please give me some kind of painkiller or something_. Once you find out that _no it's not an allergic reaction would you_ _ **please**_ _stab me with one of those needles_ that is exactly what you do. Or try to do. Some sort of energy kind of slams you into the wall and by the time you stand up Smith is doubled over and his hands are no longer swollen. He doesn't seem to be able to find the words to explain, he looks at you and then at his hands and makes a sound you can only describe as a whine.

To be fair, the only thing you can think to say is _well that's interesting._

He wobbles on his feet and you direct him to sit on your bed.

Smith stares at his hands (now adorned) for a long while with not much expression on his face. You sit next to him with a hand on his back, unsure of what to do.

 _It's not fair_ he says suddenly _I was doing fine- I- I-_

He cuts himself off, frustrated. He looks much more upset now, gripping his knees.

You sigh and say _Smith..._

He shakes his head- _Sorry to bother you_ and stands up to leave. _Hold on_ you say, grabbing his shoulder. You still can't find the words but you feel you need to do _something_.

Neither of you are touchy-feely by any means but Smith is willingly drawn into your hug. His head ends up on your shoulder and he just seems to sag onto you.

 

(When he leaves you offer him gloves and he sheepishly nods his head. When he says _thanks_ you like to think that there's some weight behind it)

 

_v._

To say that you're irritated would be putting it incredibly lightly.

You're laying in you room, the only light is coming from the porthole. The stump where your arm once was (and where your prosthetic now is) itches and aches and you yourself are exhausted.

 

There is a knock on your door that you've come to recognize as Smith's.

You sigh (because you assume first off, that he wants to talk about how he was puking marbles earlier and you aren't exactly feeling up to it).

You hear him come in and actually take in a breath. _Randus..._ he starts.

You grunt as noncommittally as you possibly can. He walks towards you and you hear him... sit down?

 _Um_ He tries again _I know that you definitely probably feel like crap right now and I know that I wouldn't want to be alone if something like this happened to me...so..._

He falters, but you find yourself smiling despite it all.

You say _thanks_ and gods, even your voice sounds hoarse and gross.

He reaches up and grabs your hand- the real one. And you guess that he stays like that until you fall asleep because that sensation is the last thing in your mind.

 

(You think at some point before you doze off you do actually talk about the marbles but he laughs and says that its hardly the worst thing that’s come out of him. Somehow you go to sleep with a smile on your face)


	2. Chapter 2

_vi._

You wish that you had asked exactly how the Exilarchy was going to get to the moon, you're a little tired of falling on your back.

Everyone stands up, Smith is looking up at the sky, chewing on one of the fingers of his gloves (You know now that this is a nervous habit of his).

You pull him aside and ask _are you feeling alright?_ He nods. _It's just that I'm-_

 

Then the monsters come and there's not exactly a lot of time to talk

 

_vii._

You've been keeping a close eye on Smith ever since you got here. You don't think he's been sleeping.

 _I'm not sick_ he says _or making any more weapons as far as I can tell. I promise._

Which isn't really convincing to you given the bags under his eyes. Arm across his shoulder you manage to draw from him that _ever since we got here I've been so nervous that I can't sleep._

And you have to agree that his logic seems reasonable, that if the moon has been causing his problems it can only get worse now that they're here.

You try to find a bright-side,that _hey, you haven't made anything yet and you don't feel bad yet so maybe it won't happen, you know, like we're in the eye of the storm_ but you don't even convince yourself.

You've been hugging Smith a lot lately.

 

_vii._

The mist disappears from everywhere else, but clings to Smith. Your heart hurts at the misery on his face.

 

 

_ix._

Smith explodes.

He refuses to look either you or Orem as you argue about his powers. He lags behind the group as you walk on. You slow down to meet him.

He's not completely inconsolable, _at least_ he says _I didn't hurt anyone. It could be a lot worse._

Outwardly you agree, but inwardly you worry that there wasn't much short of killing everyone that could have been worse for his mental health.

 

_x._

You don't think you can ever remember having such a bad dream. You wake up with your heart beating out of your chest.

How did you get here again? And where is Smith?

 

You try to forget about it. But it still nags at you, and you do notice that Smith stays quiet. He still won't look at you.

As you gather your gear outside of Resplendent Tiger's place you decide you ought to mention it. And now he does look you in the eyes, alarmed.

He says _you do realize that we were just in a place called the Temple of Omens, right? A dream where I die in a place like that-_ He takes a deep breath and shakes his head _never mind. That's just superstitious junk anyways._

But he's obviously worried about it, and you feel even worse about it than you did before.

 

_xi._

You catch him crouching, curled up on himself at camp (after you almost die, again. You're afraid you're getting used to it). It's the beginning of your watch and yes, you _should_ be watching for enemies but you can't help yourself (And well, there's Orem so you don't feel to bad). You put you hand on his shoulder and- shit, he was crying , he has to wipe his eyes before he looks at you.

You don't know what to do, he stares at you for a long while. You wish more than anything that there was something you could do even to _comfort_ him (actually _helping_ him seems beyond comprehension).

Again, all you can offer is a hug and it hardly feels like enough. Smith essentially collapses onto you and buries his head in your chest and shakes.

You rub circles in his back, unsure of what to do. Eventually his breathing returns to normal.

He mumbles into your coat something that sounds like _I'm so so sick of this._

You rest your head on his and you stay like that for quite a while. Eventually he pushes away from you and says that _you're kind of supposed to be keeping watch you know_ but he smiles as he says it (even if the smile seems a bit weak, it's _there)._ You squeeze him one last time and stand up. As you walk away he grabs one of the tails of your jacket.

 _Ah ,wait_ he says, and you turn around, confused.

Smith clears his throat and says _thanks_

He looks up at you, and right now he looks so small.

 

This guy is making you heartsick.

 

 _xii_.

Smith starts sleeping near you. You're glad for it

 

_xiii._

You joke about Smith being the fuse.

Then he has to climb _into_ the fuse.

Everyone laughs nervously. You feel sick.

 

_xiv._

Shit

 

_xv._

_**Shit.** _

 

_xvi._

You guess you owe someone a statue.

 

_xvii._

It doesn't really hit you on the ride back. You just stare out the port hole, thoughts thankfully blank.

 

You have trouble sleeping.

 

 _xviii_.

You really do wish you were able to bury him in the natural world. You feel like after everything that the lunar gods put him (James. Not Smith.) through he deserves that much.

 

The whole funeral ceremony goes by in a haze. You can't even really remember what was said.

 

 _xv?_ _□□_ _?x?_.

(Eventually you get over the grief, and the nightmares stop and he ends up a memory you think fondly of rather often. And he still appears in your dreams from time to time, mostly just the good ones, now)

(And eventually, through some means or another you reach a heaven that's been reserved for heros and as you wander through the crowds of historical figures you hear someone behind you go _um!_ and you can't help but grin)

 


	3. Chapter 3

So it goes like this.

You meet this kid. You adventure with him.

You fall in love with him a little.

He dies.

 

You are forced, more or less, to move on, although he remains in your thoughts.

 

And then you get drafted into this war where gods are fighting gods (stuff like this happens to you so often these days you don't even worry about it) and you end up on this plane some deity has created to hold the spirits of heros that were deemed worthy enough to participate.

 

For a while you just wander

( _The big fight_ , you were told, _will not start for a while yet_ )

There's not a lot to do, mostly you end up talking with other artificers and comparing inventions.

 

And then someone mentions how they were so happy that they got to reunite with a lost friend in this place, and it clicks. You start asking around, but no is able to say with certainty that they've seen _him_ (Smith, by any name and with any level of hair you ask about, is nowhere to be found).

 

So you start looking for someone who could maybe use magic to find him (because he has to be here somewhere. He _has_ to be). You're trying to follow this awful map, and you're distracted.

Someone behind you says _um!_ and you freeze in your tracks because that sounded awfully familiar.

You're afraid to turn around, but your hopes are up and you can't help a smile from spreading over your face.

 _Sorry,_ says the voice _It's just- I thought_

You turn around, slowly.

And _damn_ , there he is, staring at you with his stupid brown eyes.

You grip him in the tightest hug you’ve ever given in your life, right there in the streets.

He's hugging you back and for some reason you can't stop laughing.

Because he's here. He's real and he's solid and the living part doesn't seem to matter at this point.

 

You kind of refuse to let him go. He mumbles into your chest _I missed you too._

 

You're crying, you realize. Smith is holding to you tight and you're laughing and crying because it's _him_ and he's _here._

 

Eventually you end up in a sort of a bar and you start swapping stories (he says he hasn't been up to much, that he lost most of his magic powers and has been working on and off to get them back to where they used to be. You don't want to wonder how it all works here). You grip each others hands the whole time.

(He asks if you're dead, you say you're not completely sure to be honest, you just know that you've ended up here).

 

You talk through the night and end up curled up against each other somewhere, you've buried your face in his hair and his head is under your chin.

He says _I'm glad everything turned out okay with the moon, and all._

You want to shake him and scream that it wasn't okay, _that you died and I couldn't figure out a way to keep you from climbing into the fusebox and god you_ _ **died**_ _with blood on your face and we never even got you that statue._ But what you actually do it pull him even closer and say _I didn't even realize how much I missed you._

He wraps his arms around your neck and you feel him nod.

And you sleep, for the first time in a long long while with someone else's warmth by you.

(And you're glad, more than anything that he's free of the lunar gods here, that he's happy, and most of all that you've finally, finally,found him) 


End file.
